Stonegrave and Caulkleys Bank from Nunnington
7 miles Grey and Murky
This is the most southerly outing in Tom Scott Burns' book The Walker's Guide to the Hambleton Hills, being four miles south of Helmsley. We drove to Nunnington via the B1257 Malton road and parked at the roadside as shown on the map below, across the river from Nunnington Hall.
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Today's walk from The Walker's Guide to the Hambleton Hills |
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Nunnington Hall from the car park |
Tom Scott Burns explains that the name Nunnington is derived from the Old English personal name Nunna and not from the Saxon nunnery that was originally on the site of Nunnington Hall. We walked through the village and stopped to admire and photograph a large weather vane of a spaniel at Nunnington Studios. A man crossing the yard outside the studio shouted "I'll tell you a story about that weather-vane."
He went on to tell us that the weather vane was a memorial to his first and much loved dog, a spaniel called Percy. He said the spaniel was a real character who led a very independent life, doing exactly what he pleased. The weather vane of Percy was a gift from his mother and was life sized. At the other end of the village was a small copse of trees named after the dog and known as Percy's Plantation. I told him I would mention Percy in my blog and he said with a smile to also mention that he is a dog trainer, should anyone need his services.
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Nunnington |
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The Old School House, Nunnington |
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Percy |
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Percy's owner |
We continued through the village and left the road at a sign and began following the winding path of the River Rye.
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Last cottage in Nunnington... |
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... before going through the gate to fields and the river |
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Private fishing beats |
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Walking alongside the River Rye |
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I wonder if anyone dares to cross here |
Our path followed the river bank for about 1.5 miles until we veered left, crossed a small beck and turned left again, into High Moor Lane. We soon reached a tarmac road and turned left onto it, then after a hundred yards, right into fields. The field path took us straight across three or four meadows until we could see the roof-tops of Stonegrave below us.
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Over the bridge then sharp left |
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Misty conditions |
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A short stretch on the road then right into more fields |
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Dropping down to Stonegrave |
We reached the busy B1257 at Stonegrave and walked through the village, bypassing our path to Caulkleys Bank on the left as we wanted to visit the Minster, the smallest in the country, which has been on this site since the 8th century.
We turned right and walked past the Elizabethan manor house to reach the minster.
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Stonegrave Minster |
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Ruined building in Stonegrave |
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Elizabethan Manor House |
In front of the minster is a memorial bench and we stopped here for a while to enjoy our coffee and scones.
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No, you haven't stumbled into Royston Vasey. Clive and I enjoy our scones. |
TSB explains that the name Stonegrave is from Old Norse 'steinn-gryfja' meaning stone cleft, as there was extensive stone quarrying here in the middle ages. The Minster is mentioned in an 8th century letter from Pope Paul I to King Eadbert of Northumbria.
The Minster was unlocked and just inside its door we saw a Celtic Circle Cross which is almost complete. An adjacent notice pointed out that such crosses are found only in the North East.
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Interior of Stonegrave Minster |
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Altar window |
We enjoyed looking around the minster but were a little disappointed that there were no interesting epitaphs in the graveyard that we could spot.
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Getting ready to return to the trail |
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On of the many Norman heads that adorn the minster |
We retraced our steps to reach the footpath to Caulkleys Bank. Caulkleys is a corruption of 'chalk lands'. The path runs off the B1257, sign-posted 'Caulkleys Bank' and we followed the wide grassy path uphill and to the left of a small wood. We now followed a fine broad path along a high ridge for the next 3.5 miles
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Climbing Caulkleys Bank |
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Looking down from the ridge |
Eventually we reached a trig point from which TSB claims that no less than 22 towns, villages and hamlets and sixteen churches may be seen from the ridge's highest point. We didn't check.
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Trig Point |
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Too misty to count the church spires |
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We are astonished that anything can be grown in these limestone fields |
It was apparent that horses are now being ridden along this lovely green lane and its condition has deteriorated since our last walk.
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The green lane in 2016 |
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The green lane today |
Eventually we started to drop gently down to the houses of West Ness where we were pleased to see the little stall at West Ness Hall Farm is still selling cakes.
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Reaching West Ness |
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I wonder if there are any cakes.....? |
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There are! If you are wondering, I purchased a packet of coffee cakes and a packet of plain butterflies |
Packing the cakes away we walked past the old Wesleyan chapel and what looked like an even older telephone box. It was absolutely filthy with bird droppings and spiders' webs.
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I'll just pop in and make a call... |
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... perhaps not! |
Just past the telephone box the route joins a riverside track to the left of the bridge. We followed the river back towards Nunnington and came to a large building that had once been a mill. In fact, TSB says there has been a mill on this site since the Domesday Book, although the present one dates from 1875.
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Leave the road at the sign |
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Nunnington Mill |
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The old mill |
As we entered the field next to the mill a couple of geese ran over making a terrific racket but we think they were begging food rather than attacking.
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Clive gives a final warning! |
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Looking back at the mill and Mill Farm |
Leaving the mill behind us the river path took us back to Nunnington and to Nunnington Hall, which was owned by Sir Thomas Parr in the 16th century. It's quite possible that Catherine Parr, Henry VIII's last wife, could have played here as a child.
We were fascinated by some Southdown sheep in a field at the hall that have the distinct look of teddy bears.
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Texel Ram |
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Nunnington Hall rear entrance |
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Nunnington Hall and sheep |
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Southdown sheep |
Before finishing our walk we went to the other end of the village to the Church of All Saints and St James. It was open to visitors and we admired the plinth of a crusader knight, which hereabouts is believed to contain the remains of Peter Loschy, the dragon slayer of local legend.
The church was very attractive with a fine Victorian organ and we were impressed that the wall behind the altar had been painted blue with stars, it looks very attractive.
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All Saints and St James |
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Clive checks to see if it is open |
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Looking towards the altar |
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The altar window |
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Beautiful beamed ceiling |
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Sir Walter or Peter Loschy |
There were some interesting epitaphs here, the last one shown being of particular note.
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'The lovely bud so young so fair, called hence by early doom, Just came to show how sweet a flower, In paradise should bloom' |
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'Fresh in the morn the opening flower, Hangs withering ere 'tis noon, We scarce enjoy the balmy gift, But mourn the pleasure gone' |
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'Wrecked on the shore where silence sleeps/ Attended by the worm that creeps/ Through rayless death-extinguished eyes/Enshrouded in a coffin's gloom, Amidst the victims of the tomb' See note below |
With regard to the unusual epitaph above, a Google search showed that this is the first verse of a poem called 'Lorenzo', without the last line, from a book called The Remains of Joseph Blackett. The poem's title being: 'Lorenzo, Founded on the fact of persons having been buried alive.'
The full verse goes:
'Wrecked on the shore where silence sleeps, attended by the worm that creeps, through ray-less death extinguished eyes, enshrouded in a coffins gloom, amidst the victims of the tomb, the young Lorenzo prematurely lies'
Why anyone would want a poem about being buried alive as an epitaph is a mystery!
The Royal Oak stands opposite the church and we mulled over the cheerful epitaphs with a pint of Theakstons bitter.